


on the run (from bounty hunters and our feelings)

by princ3ssf33t



Series: Obitine Week 2020 [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen, Gluttony, Lust, ObiTine Week 2020, Pride, Seven Deadly Sins, envy - Freeform, greed - Freeform, mostly canon-compliant, not necessarily in that order, sloth - Freeform, wrath - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:55:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24873427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princ3ssf33t/pseuds/princ3ssf33t
Summary: A lot can change in a year. Obi-Wan Kenobi wasn't sure what he expected when he and his master was assigned the mission to Mandalore, but it plain to see that the Duchess did not want them there. But as the days turn to weeks, and weeks turn to months, feelings can change.or, snapshots of a year on the run, and Obi-Wan and Satine feel things they shouldn't.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Obitine Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1799788
Comments: 2
Kudos: 57





	on the run (from bounty hunters and our feelings)

**Author's Note:**

> So, I decided that it would be a great idea to write something for all Seven of the Deadly Sins, and not just pick one over another. Why? Because doing just one was way too easy. 
> 
> Hopefully everyone's in character. I haven't written some of these POV's before, so fingers crossed. 
> 
> Also, Satine and Obi-Wan are about 18 or 19 in this fic. And unsurprising anyone, the M-rating is due to the theme of lust..

**Pride**

* * *

“Master,” Obi-Wan whispered as they were left alone in the throne room with the stoic guard. “I don’t think our presence is wanted here.” 

Qui-Gon laughed. He looked down at his padawan. 

“What gives you that impression, young one?” 

Obi-Wan did his very best not to roll his eyes. It was a habit unbecoming of a Jedi Padawan, yet he found himself unable to break it. He turned to look up to his master. Qui-Gon continued to smile, and Obi-Wan sighed. 

“You’re being too cavalier about this whole situation, Master.”

Qui-Gon turned away from his student and watched the empty throne. He didn’t respond to his padawan’s concerns, just smiled. 

Before Obi-Wan could pursue the subject further, a door opened off to the side of the throne room and in walked a few of the guards who had left to get the incumbent Duchess, followed by the woman herself and the rest of her assigned guard. None of the entering party spared a glance over to the two Jedi who were standing in their midst. Not a word was spoken between the two parties until the Duchess was seated on her throne and the guard had returned to their places around their ruler. 

The Duchess of Mandalore was younger than Obi-Wan had expected. Although it was difficult to tell behind the elaborate garment she wore, Obi-Wan was almost certain that the woman that was now in charge of the system wasn’t much older than he was, if she even was. But despite her youth, there was a certain air about her that gave away her royal bearing. Perhaps it was the way she kept her chin lifted, or it was the way she was looking down at Obi-Wan down the length of her nose. 

Obi-Wan attempted to keep his gaze neutral. 

“Greetings Master Jedi,” the Duchess said. Her voice was firm, but gave away her youth. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” 

Qui-Gon stepped forward. Obi-Wan watched the room around him. Knowing what he did of the histories between the Jedi and the Mandalorians, he didn’t want to be caught unawares if this ended up being a trap for them. Even if their call had been a call for help. 

Something didn’t feel right. 

“Sadly, our visit is not one of pleasure this day, your Grace,” qui-Gon said. How he managed to keep the easy smile on his face, Obi-Wan had no idea. “We are here because we got an urgent plea for assistance.” 

“By whom?” The Duchess turned on her throne, glaring at the guard that stood around her. Obi-Wan felt her frustration and betrayal through the Force, even if her face remained impassive.

Before the Jedi had the opportunity to elaborate further, one of the guards stepped forward, head lowered in reverence. “Your Grace, forgive me for acting against your wishes, but I fear there was no other option. The insurgents have grown reckless in their attempts to assassinate you.” 

“Then we shall use that recklessness against them,” the Duchess snapped. Her hands were clenched tightly around the arms of her throne. “The need to call on outside help, especially from the _jetii_ , was not necessary.” 

“My apologies, your Grace,” the guard spoke again. “Our resources are being stretched thin as they are. I thought a neutral third party would be willing to step in and ease some of the burden.” 

The Duchess stood from her throne. There was nothing but ice in her gaze. Obi-Wan had the fleeting thought that he was glad that she wasn’t directing that gaze at him before he purged it from his mind. If by some miracle of the Force the Duchess didn’t send them home, Obi-Wan was sure that he would be on the receiving end of such glares in due time.

“We are Mandalorian,” the Duchess hissed. “We are certainly capable of handling our own conflicts. We don’t need the Jedi to fight for us.” 

“You misunderstand, your Grace,” Qui-Gon said. 

Everyone in the room froze as he interrupted the ruler of the system. Obi-Wan just about choked on his own tongue. He was somewhat used to his master interrupting members of the Jedi Council; and they had come to accept the renegade that was Qui-Gon Jinn, but to interrupt the ruler of a planetary system? After she had made it explicitly clear what she thought of their presence there? Obi-Wan was a little surprised that the Duchess didn’t order his execution on the spot. 

“My padawan and I are not here to fight any war for you. Our presence here is only as a means of protection for your Grace. Nothing more.” 

“And you expect me to simply trust my body to your care? You, whom I know nothing of?” The Duchess shot a glance over to where Obi-Wan stood. 

He shifted uncomfortably under her stare. 

“Yes.” 

The simple answer Qui-Gon gave her did not satisfy; her or the guard that watched. Obi-Wan kept his eyes on them as discreetly as he could as they shuffled uncomfortably in their positions. Despite the tension in the air, something else was tugging at the corners of Obi-Wan’s mind. Something more urgent than a spat between his master and the sovereign of a system. 

And he couldn’t determine what it was. 

The Duchess stepped down from her dais and walked to stand halfway between her throne and the Jedi. Without the added height of the platform, she was shorter than Obi-Wan expected. 

“And what if I refuse? I tell you to get back inside your starship and return to Coruscant?” The Duchess folded her arms over her chest. “My forces are extremely well trained. I have the utmost confidence that they would be able to win this war and protect my life without your assistance.” 

Obi-Wan thought of the soldiers he had seen on his way into the palace. There had almost been as many wounded as not. Men and women alike. The medical supplies had appeared to be dwindling, and soldiers were taking on the tasks of the medics as there were too few of them to attend to each patient as soon as they arrived. And everyone that had their helmet off, wore the distant expression of someone who had seen too much. 

In looking at the Duchess in front of him, Obi-Wan thought he could see traces of that same expression begin to appear as she continued her exposé. She hid them fairly well, and if Obi-Wan had not been able to tap into the Force in order to get a read on her emotions, he might not have known to look for them. 

But he did, and he allowed himself to focus deeper into the Force. He could feel her determination, her conviction at the truth of her words, the concern she felt for all her people, and the tightly controlled fear. She was passionate, and proud, and so, so different from himself. Yet there was something that drew his attention to her. 

“Don’t let your pride get in the way,” Obi-Wan said suddenly. 

All eyes turned to look at him. Obi-Wan failed to subdue the blush on his face. He gave a small cough before he attempted to speak again. 

“If accepting our help means that your forces will be able to focus all their energy upon subduing this faction of Mandalorians, while we safeguard your life, then perhaps this Civil War will come to an end much quicker than if you hadn’t accepted our help. You must think about what would be best for the people of Mandalore.”

The Duchess glared down at Obi-Wan for a few moments. He found that under her glare he wanted to take a step back and hide behind his master. Obi-Wan swallowed and stood firm where he was. He wouldn’t take back what he said now. He couldn’t. 

But why hadn’t he been able to restrain his tongue any longer?

Her gaze remained as focused on Obi-Wan as ever, but slowly, the stiffness in her posture relaxed. When she broke her gaze from Obi-Wan finally, she turned to look at all of the guards that were posted around the throne room. Though their faces were mostly covered by the helmets they wore, it was plain to see how deep the exhaustion ran for each of them. 

Qui-Gon rested his hand on his padawan’s shoulder, and Obi-Wan looked up to see a pleased look on his master’s face. It was subdued, but it was there. Obi-Wan tried not to dwell on that fact while they were in the midst of a tense negotiation. 

“Perhaps, the padawan has a point,” the Duchess said finally. Slowly, she turned back to face Obi-Wan and his master. 

Obi-Wan tried to ignore the sudden shutter that ran down his spine as her eyes took in his entire appearance. 

“If accepting the help of the Jedi is what it takes to end this war and return a sense of sanctity to my people, then that is what I must do.” The Duchess stepped closer to the two Jedi standing before her throne and lifted her chin as she stared into Qui-Gon’s face. 

The Jedi Master said nothing as the young adult stared him down. 

“And what are my _caburs’_ names?” She asked. Demanded really. 

Qui-Gon smiled gently and gave the young ruler and gave her a bow. “I am Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn.” 

Obi-Wan stepped forward as Qui-Gon stepped back. He gave an equally low bow, but before he could return to his standing position and introduce himself properly to the Duchess, their mission began. 

And the wall behind them exploded. 

* * *

**Greed**

* * *

There weren’t many places to hide on a ship. Even fewer when the ship that hadn’t been designed to carry more than a couple beings through short jumps into hyperspace had been their only option for escape. And try as she might, Satine had exhausted all of the reasonable excuses and potential hiding spots to stay away from her _jetii_ protectors over the past few weeks, and frankly, she was tired of it. 

She was Mandalorian. Mandalorians didn’t run from their problems. 

Except for the fact that she was on a spacecraft, with two Jedi she barely knew, fleeing from the problems that were plaguing her people. 

Unable to restrain her groan, Satine closed her eyes, leaned back and the back of her head hit the metal of the spacecraft with a loud metallic clang. She winced. 

“Ouch,” a quiet voice said. 

Startled, Satine sat straight up (the way she was supposed to be as Duchess) and opened her eyes to see Jedi Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi standing off to the side. One hand was in his hair, which had grown out some in the weeks they were on the run, and the other held a rag coated in oil. There were matching streaks of oil on the padawan’s clothing and face, and there was the air about him that indicated that he wished to be anywhere other than where he was at the moment. 

“What?” She asked. She attempted to keep her voice from being as sharp as it had been with the Jedi for the past few weeks, but the boy across from her still flinched. 

“Your head,” he explained. His hand dropped down from his hair and Satine saw that there was now oil in his hair as well. “When it landed against the wall. It sounded like it hurt.” 

Satine lifted her chin, clearly indicating that she wasn’t going to give him the answer that he was searching for. Kenobi sighed and his head dropped nearly to his chest. Satine tried not to let the feeling that she had hurt him sway her to let inform him how she was feeling. 

“Pardon me for intruding on your personal time, your Grace,” Kenobi said while his head was still bowed. “Our repairs to the hyperdrive are nearly complete; I’ll leave you to your thoughts.” 

Kenobi turned to leave, and Satine found she didn’t want him to leave her to her thoughts again. She had retreated into them for the longest time, and where had they gotten her? Nowhere except for inducing a headache. She missed the council of court where there were others to help shoulder the load of ruling a system. 

“Do you think I ask too much of my people?” She asked suddenly. 

The Jedi stopped in the doorway, but didn’t turn around to look at her. Satine took this as a sign that she should continue.

“For generations, all my people have known is war. They take pride in that heritage. But they fail to see at what cost that violence has cost us. My policies aren’t popular, but are we so blinded by the past we fail to see what lies in the future for us if we continue along this track?” 

Slowly, Kenobi turned around to face Satine. She noticed that his face was carefully constructed into a mask of impassive neutrality. But she was sure that if she looked closely, she would find the emotion he was attempting to hide from her in his eyes. 

Sure enough, as she looked into Kenobi’s eyes, she could see what he was attempting to hide from her. Panic laced his eyes, and Satine wondered when the last time he had talked to someone outside the Jedi Order was. When he opened his mouth to speak, there was a slight stutter as he began his answer. 

“I-it’s not my place to say, Duchess.” His eyes connected with hers for a moment before returning to look any place other than her face. This time he turned to look at his feet. “What right do I as an outsider have to comment on the way your system is run?”

Satine pulled herself up from her chair and walked over to him. Kenobi’s eyes darted up to her face and back down to his boots repeatedly in rapid succession. Satine wasn’t sure if it were her proximity that caused him to behave as such, or if there was some other reason for his behavior. She hadn’t imagined that he would be a shy boy, not after his outburst in her court. Reserved yes, but shy, no. 

“You’re a Jedi. I thought Jedi were to serve the galaxy as peacekeepers?” She reached out and tapped his chest lightly, making sure that she didn’t touch the portions of his tunic that were grease stained. “So I’m asking you, what do you think?” 

He swallowed and slowly lifted his head to look at her. As they held each other’s gaze, Satine wondered what else was hidden inside his brain. 

“It’s not greedy to want peace for your people,” he said finally. His voice was soft and reverent. “I admire the stand you’re taking for them. In time I think they will come to appreciate what you’ve done for them, and what you’ve sacrificed.” 

Satine couldn’t help it. She gave him a smile. It was a small one, but it was bigger than any smile she might have attempted to give him or Master Jinn in the past few weeks. Kenobi started to blush when he saw her smiling. Satine tried not to dwell on the fact that he looked cute when he blushed like that. 

“Thank you for your opinion, Obi-Wan. Perhaps after your repairs are finished, you would be willing to sit down and discuss further? I’d love to see how a Jedi’s perspective differs from my own.”

If it was possible, Satine would have guessed Kenobi blushed harder. She opened her mouth to say something, when Master Jinn emerged from the cockpit, hands spread apart as he looked at the pair of them. 

“There you are Obi-Wan. I thought you were going to head to the refresher and be right back. I’ve been waiting for you so we can finish these repairs.”

This time Satine knew Kenobi’s blush grew deeper. He muttered his apologies to the floor and fled down the small hall where the refresher was tucked away. Satine and Master Jinn watched as he practically vanished in an instant. 

Satine shared a look with Kenobi’s master, and found that she couldn’t keep the hysterical giggles contained inside. Master Jinn rolled his eyes and returned to the cockpit to finish the repairs he had been working on. 

After her giggles subsided, and Obi-Wan had snuck back through to the cockpit, Satine found herself alone with her thoughts once again. And despite what Obi-Wan said about her desire for Mandalore, and her gut deep down telling her that she was absolutely right, the doubt she had been fighting off for the past few weeks crept back in. She sighed, and sat back down against the wall. 

There was nothing she could do: for her people, or for herself. No matter how much she wanted too. 

* * *

**Gluttony**

* * *

Qui-Gon tried to keep his amusement in check as he watched his padawan and the Duchess of Mandalore stuff their faces with as much of the homemade gumbo into their mouths as they possibly could. He didn’t blame them for their reactions. Living off the foraged fruits and small game animals they had managed to snare in their makeshift traps for weeks on end certainly made the even the simplest of dishes seem gourmet. 

Qui-Gon for instance was glad to finally have some spice in his food that wasn’t rock salt.

There was a cry from one of his charges, and Qui-Gon stretched out with the Force as he looked towards his padawan. Only to find that there was no danger anywhere, it had just been Satine stealing the biscuit from Obi-Wan’s plate and shoving it in her mouth unrepentant. 

Qui-Gon rolled his eyes and handed his padawan the biscuit from his own plate. Even though the boy had already eaten three other biscuits, there were times Qui-Gon swore that there was a black hole in the place where Obi-Wan’s stomach should be. 

Obi-Wan barely had the time to give a proper thank you before he stuffed it in his mouth, glaring at the Duchess the entire time. She merely gave him a gesture Qui-Gon knew to be extremely rude in Mandalorian culture. 

Having finished the gumbo from his own bowl, Qui-Gon stood. He cleared his throat to obtain their attention. It was only with years of practice that he was able to keep his face impassive when they looked up at him with their cheeks stuffed with food and crumbs stuck to their faces. Obi-Wan even had a line of dark broth running down from his mouth. 

“I’m going to check on our hosts. Try not to overindulge yourselves while I’m gone.”

The pair of them shared a glance with each other before they each blushed. It was hard to tell who’s blush was more vibrant. The pale duchess, or the red-haired Jedi. 

Qui-Gon turned and left the small dining room and entered the kitchen where their host was finishing up ladling another round of gumbo into a serving dish. At the sound of Qui-Gon’s steps, she turned and gestured with the spoon. 

“Good, yes?” She said in passable Basic. 

Qui-Gon bowed his head. “Very good. Thank you for your hospitality, my charges and I truly appreciate it.” 

“Good. Good. More?” She said, using her spoon to gesture to the bowl she had just filled. 

“Not for me, thank you.” Qui-Gon paused. “Would you be willing to direct us toward the nearest spaceport? I’m afraid when we crashed, we lost all navigation capabilities.” 

It wasn’t strictly true. The Force could aid them as they traveled through the mountains on this planet, but it was unable to give them coordinates as to their location, or tell them how far they’d come. 

It didn’t matter to the little alien woman. She waved her spoon around, sending droplets that had remained on it flying throughout her small kitchen. She answered in her native tongue, one that Qui-Gon was unfamiliar with before she turned back to the second course she’d prepared. She wrapped her small arms around the bowl and pulled it from the counter and began walking to the room where Obi-Wan and the Duchess were still eating. 

Qui-Gon was quick to back up to allow her to pass, knocking his head against the rounded low ceiling. He winced and placed his bowl in the sink as he had been instructed to do prior. 

He took a moment to look out the window at the red mountains outside. The planet was indeed beautiful, and he might have been tempted to return if he hadn’t already associated the planet with crashes and rock slides and the gnawing feeling in his stomach that indicated that he had given up two out of the last three meals to ensure that his padawan and the Duchess kept up their strength. 

A chuckle behind him pulled Qui-Gon back to the present and he turned to see his host wiping her small hands against the apron she was wearing. 

Before he could ask what she was laughing about, she told him. First in her native tongue, before in Basic.

“Expanding, is your brood. Progeny in your future.” 

Qui-Gon lifted an eyebrow. Between his padawan and the Duchess? The idea seemed laughable. Obi-Wan was a stalwart follower of the Jedi Code. It had been the root cause of nearly two-thirds of the arguments between them. The idea that he would abandon those ideals because a woman, a Mandalorian, the antithesis of everything he believed, was downright absurd. And for the Duchess to choose his padawan as a partner? Well, Qui-Gon remembered quite well from the beginning how much she had spoken of her disdain for his apprentice and avoided him. 

He was unable to keep his amusement from leaking through his carefully crafted mask. He gave a light shake of the head as the thought rattled around his mind. It was only broken when he felt the light slap of the wooden spoon against his thigh. 

The small alien woman glared up at him, her ears pressed down against her head. 

“You see,” she said pointing to the door that separated them. “Sella’s right.”

Giving his host a small smile, he pushed himself away from the sink and peered through the open door. 

Not much had changed in the space of time where he’d been gone. There were no more biscuits on the table, and the first serving dish of gumbo had been scrapped clean. His charges were still in their seats, still eating as much as they could get their hands on. Obi-Wan was already digging into the second serving dish with no sense of restraint. 

Qui-Gon wished he had said more to the boy before they began eating. If Obi-Wan, and Satine for that matter, kept up the pace at which they were eating, they were likely to make themselves sick and all the nutrients they had obtained from this meal would be lost. 

As he watched, Satine said something in Mando’a to his padawan. Without hesitation, his padawan responded in her own language back, with near the fluency as the native speaker. They continued to speak quietly to each other in the language of her people. Something settled in Qui-Gon’s gut that he didn’t recognize. 

When Obi-Wan looked to the Duchess after a comment she said, the pair froze. Qui-Gon didn’t need the Force to understand that for the pair of them, they couldn’t see anything more than each other. Then the Duchess reached up with her napkin and gently wiped away the evidence of Obi-Wan’s meal from his face. The tips of her fingers lingered near his chin after she finished. Obi-Wan’s eyes searched her face as he remained frozen.

Qui-Gon suddenly felt like he should not be watching and retreated back to the small kitchen. The small alien smirked at Qui-Gon’s face as he stumbled over the uneven floor. 

“Sella’s always right,” she said, pride lighting up her face as she turned to the dishes in her sink. 

Qui-Gon ran his hand over his face. It felt like the food he had eaten earlier wasn’t agreeing with his stomach anymore. Perhaps his stomach was finally taking it’s revenge for all the meals that he had purposely passed up on. He swallowed. 

He wasn’t sure what he just saw, but he knew that he would need to have a talk with his apprentice soon. 

* * *

**Lust**

* * *

Her hands pulled his hair tightly as he kissed down her neck and ground his hips against her core. A groan left his throat as she wrapped her legs around his waist in an effort to bring him even closer. He gave a gentle thrust as his hand slid under her tunic to grab one of her breasts. She whimpered as he did so, one of her hands leaving his hair to scratch down his back. He hissed at the sensation, but it did nothing to break his concentration, and he continued to grind against her with the occasional thrusts, all while making his mark against her neck. 

It was wrong what he was doing. But when she mewled as his mouth closed over the breast he’d exposed from underneath her tunic, he found it hard to care. 

Of course, there were some back at the Jedi Temple who would argue that what he was doing wasn’t as wrong as he thought it was. After all, as long as he wasn’t forming attachments, what was a little fun between the sheets every now and then? 

He’d never been one to subscribe to that line of thinking, but he was very tempted to use it as an excuse at the moment. 

One of her hands reached down and started working at his belt. He let her. When her hands finally accomplished the goal she’d been aiming for, she wasted no time in her attempts to remove his trousers. She was not shy; she knew what she wanted and she took almost any means necessary to get it. 

“Ben,” she breathed in his ear. Her voice was weighty and breathless all at once. “Ben, I need you.”

With a start, Obi-Wan sat straight up. The blanket that had been covering him was tossed haphazardly down upon his lap, and despite the chilly night air around him, Obi-Wan was slicked with sweat. He ran a hand down his face as his breath came rapidly to him. 

Obi-Wan looked around, attempting to see where his master and the Duchess were. To see if they were awake. To his utmost relief, both Master Qui-Gon and the Duchess were sound asleep yet in their perspective places around the dying campfire. Obi-Wan let out the breath he was holding. He wasn’t sure what he would have done if either one of them had been awake to witness what type of dream he’d been having. 

Probably throw himself off the cliff they had set up camp on. 

That sounded like a solid answer. 

Obi-Wan laid back down, in an attempt to return to sleep, but the ache in his head and in his loins persisted, and throbbed. And he knew that staying here, so close to his master and the individual of his desires, would only give him more trouble down the line. Obi-Wan resolved that if he ever wanted to go back to sleep before the sun rose on this planet, he needed to find something to take his mind, and other things, off of the dream he’d just had. 

Walking was slow as he made his way down the small trail away from their campsite. And Obi-Wan knew that it was mostly due to the terrain of the trail itself and the fact that he had no lantern to help guide him away from the camp. Whatever portion came from the dream he’d had, it was insignificant to those other obstacles. 

At least that was what he told himself. 

Obi-Wan groaned. With a hard thump, he sat down on one of the fallen trees in the area. His head dropped down into his hands, and there was a small amount of rocking back and forth as he attempted to rein in his traitorous thoughts and feelings.

They would do him no good. He knew that. They would part ways and his feelings would pass in time. Whatever he was feeling right now, it was only a temporary thing, brought on by the isolation of the pair of them being forced to live together in close quarters for months on end. 

A voice in the back of his head reminded him that they weren’t alone; Master Qui-Gon was still with them. He ignored it. He didn’t need the reminder of how he was once again failing his master. 

And who was to say that the Duchess even wanted anything like he’d been dreaming. He certainly hadn’t been able to deduce anything of the sort. Sure, she’d given him a nickname that she only used when Qui-Gon wasn’t there, but his friends at the Temple had a ton of nicknames that they used when they were free from their master’s watchful eyes. That wasn’t anything special. 

Then again, most of his friends' nicknames weren’t the kindest, and Satine always seemed to say hers with a familiarity he hadn’t heard before. 

He remembered the way she said it in his dream, and Obi-Wan groaned again. That was not what he meant. One of his hands left his face and pulled sharply on the padawan braid behind his ear. The sudden pain helped clear his mind a little. At least, it allowed him to think of something other than the mess he was in. 

Even if it was only for a short while. 

A sigh left him. He would have to find time to sit down with his master and discuss everything he’d been struggling with. If Master Qui-Gon didn’t already know. Obi-Wan winced at that thought. Because that was what he needed. For his master to know his secret. 

The sound of the local avian species broke Obi-Wan from his reverie and he looked up to see that the sky was beginning to lighten with the oncoming morning. Which meant that Qui-Gon and Satine would be waking up soon and discover him missing. Which was something he didn’t want. 

He pulled himself up from the log he was sitting on and slowly made his way back up the cliffside. He only paused here and there to gather some wood to add to their stockpile. It gave him an excuse as to why he had left camp so early in the morning without telling anyone. 

When he finally reached camp, the morning sun was already peeking above the horizon, and the campfire that had been dying was burning bright once more. 

Satine was on her knees tending to it. 

“Obi-Wan,” she said as she noticed his presence. “Where have you been? I was getting ready to wake Master Qui-Gon to go searching for you.” 

Obi-Wan shrugged. It would be best if he didn’t flee the campsite for selfish purposes. 

“The fire was dying and the wood was running low,” He said. “I thought I would gather some more while you were sleeping. I didn’t intend to stay out so late.” 

He pretended not to notice how her eyes darted over to look at their generous pile of wood leaning against the rock before they looked at the pitiful pile of sticks he held in his arms. 

“Uh-huh. Well, I at least hope your walk was... satisfying.” 

Obi-Wan was glad that he had turned from her to set the sticks down. It gave him the chance to at least try and regain composure on his face before turning to face her again. He didn’t succeed, but at least he wasn’t goggle-eyed when he turned back around to her. Obi-Wan sat down on the opposite side of the fire and stared into its green flame. He knew Satine was watching him, but he found he didn’t have the strength to say anything to her. 

So, they sat in silence until Qui-Gon woke up. 

* * *

**Wrath**

* * *

“Satine! Get down!” Obi-Wan shouted as his lightsaber sprung to life. 

Knowing better than to argue with him when his voice took that tone, Satine dropped to the ground as fast as the planet’s gravity would allow her to. As soon as her face landed in the mud, the sound of blaster bolts being deflected by the padawan’s lightsaber reached her ears. 

Lifting her head to look at and observe the environment around her, Satine did her best to try and pinpoint where the blaster bolts had come from. Which was getting increasingly difficult as the broad leaves of the foliage around them could shield an entire body from sight, and the mud on her face was beginning to drip into her eyes. Satine reached up and wiped her face to try and clear her face and her vision, but it did little more than just smear the mud deeper into her pores. 

Obi-wan’s defensive stance never wavered in front of her, despite the uneven and soggy ground underneath his feet. He blocked four more blaster bolts in the time it had taken Satine to raise her head and wipe her face. 

“Contact Master Qui-Gon,” he ordered. A plasma bolt passed near his ear. He didn’t flinch as the heat off it touched his skin, nor when the bolt landed on a nearby tree and sent shattered bark everywhere. 

Satine quickly fumbled around in her clothes, looking for the pocket their commlink was secured in. When she found it, to her dismay, she found that it had been crushed when she fell upon it. 

“ _Haar’chak_!” She cursed, and tossed the useless device off to the side. “Commlink’s busted! Now what?” 

Obi-Wan grunted as he used the Force to pull one of the bounty hunters on their trail to him. With a swift jab to the temple with the hilt of his lightsaber, the masked bounty hunter fell still. Satine decided that she wasn’t going to worry if he had been killed or just knocked unconscious. She scrambled over to him and took up the blaster that had been strapped to his side. She aimed it at the forest where the shots had originally come from. 

But with the mud and the leaves, she had no idea where those hunting them were hiding. 

Obi-Wan blocked two more bolts with his lightsaber before, he stretched out his hands and used the Force to push their assailants away from them. Satine didn’t dwell long on the question on how he knew where each one was when he pushed them back, all that mattered was that the blaster fire stopped as several large beings were flung through the air to land hard on the ground. 

Satine barely had the opportunity to register what Obi-Wan had done when he grabbed her wrist and was running with her in tow. Satine stumbled over the strength he had as he tugged her along, but he didn’t let her fall. No sooner did she start to pitch forward, than Obi-Wan had her up in his arms and was running with unusual speed. 

She assumed he was using the Force to influence that too. 

They were silent as Obi-Wan ran. It was only when they reached the rock outcropping that eventually led back to their campsite did Obi-Wan stop and let her down. Satine’s hands did not leave his body however, touching him anywhere she could. His chest, his arms, his face. 

“Are you hurt? Did they injure you?” She asked, looking over him for injuries. 

“I’m fine,” he said. His eyes never looked down at her once, instead they scanned the area that they just fled from. “The jungle will slow them down somewhat, but it won’t be long until they catch up.” 

“Then why did you stop here?” Her hands finally left the young Jedi’s person and dropped to her hips. “This isn’t a defensible position. We’re practically cornered.” 

Obi-Wan sighed and pointed up the rock face. Satine turned around and looked at the sheer face of the rock, slick with damp moss. Difficult to climb with gear, impossible to climb without it. It wasn’t long before Satine understood what Obi-Wan had in mind. 

“If you think I’m going to let you jump up there with me in your arms, you’re sorely mistaken.” 

She may have seen amazing feats being done by the hands of the Jedi, but there was a limit to things she would be willing to risk. And being held by someone as they attempted to jump a minimum of twenty meters into the air to land on the top of a slick moss-covered ridge, was not one of them. 

“I wasn’t planning on jumping,” he whispered in her ear. 

Satine attempted to suppress the shudder that ran through her. It was hardly the time or place for any such fanciful feelings as desire. Not when their lives were quite literally at stake. But before she could form a rebuttal, she felt the familiar grip of the Force wrap around her and she was lifted into the air. Satine twisted in the air, attempting to return to Obi-Wan’s side.

Even if it meant breaking his concentration and dropping. 

“ _Utreekov_!” She hissed down at him. “Let me down this instant! You can’t possibly think you can take on a fully armed posse by yourself, can you?!” 

Obi-Wan didn’t stop what he was doing in order to give the Duchess the response she wanted. Instead, he closed his eyes and lifted Satine still higher into the air. When she was past the ridge of the cliff, Obi-Wan directed her body to hover over the solid rock and gently let her down. Satine wasted no time crawling to the edge of the cliff and shouted back down to him.

“ _Jetii_! Are you mad?! What possible outcome do you hope to achieve by separating us so? Your death?” Letting her anger control her was better than admitting the alternative. 

“That ridge has a straight shot back to camp without having to trek through the jungle. You should be able to reach Master Qui-Gon before they break through my line.” 

It unnerved her to see how calmly he was talking about his potential death. An unbidden sob broke free of her throat. 

“We’ll return for you. I swear. Wait for me.” 

Obi-Wan nodded and turned to face the direction the bounty hunters were to come from. Satine pulled back from the ledge and slowly pulled herself up to make her way back to camp. And although she knew that she should be running as fast as she could, her feet were reluctant to take that first step. 

Her hesitation was what saved his life. 

Rather than come in blasters blazing, as they had when Satine was still visible by his side, this time the bounty hunters came in cackling. 

“Looksie here! The baby Jedi thinks he can stop us from accomplishing our mission.” 

Satine dropped to her stomach for the second time in the past hour and slowly crawled her way to the edge. She aimed the gun down at the confrontation below her and peered through the scope. It was difficult to see exactly who was down there; the broad leaves continued to be a nuisance in her life. 

“Di’cha see the way he clung to her as they fled?” Another bounty hunter crowed. “I would stake credits that they’ve kriffed.” 

That brought loud guffaws from the others. “Don’t be stupid, Dhiq. Everyone knows that the Jedi can’t kriff.” 

“Besides, I heard that the Duchess is a cold-hearted bitch.” 

Satine’s face burned. She could feel the blood rushing through her veins urging her to exact revenge for the crude comments they were speaking. The Mandalorian blood inside her practically sang for her to use them for target practice. 

Before she had the opportunity, Obi-Wan opened his mouth and spoke. 

He didn’t speak loud, and Satine didn’t have the enhanced senses that Jedi did, so whatever he said, she missed entirely. But she guessed it whatever it was had been laced with a surprising amount of sarcasm and a dry wit that most didn’t expect from a Jedi. 

Whatever Obi-Wan said, certainly worked on eliciting a reaction from the bounty hunters. They immediately started shooting again at the cornered Jedi. Obi-Wan’s defense was near impregnable however, and this only served to make the bounty hunters more mad. 

One of them shouted something over the blaster fire, and whatever it was, was enough to break Obi-Wan’s concentration for a split second. And that split second was all it took for a blaster bolt to land on his body. His legs twisted as he went down, causing him to bounce against the loose rock around him and breaking his skin. 

The cry that escaped from his mouth tore something out of Satine’s chest. Before she understood what exactly it was that she was doing, she was on her feet and was holding the blaster with the intent to shoot. She lined up the first bounty hunter’s head through the scope, a teal Rodian. The Rodian was approaching the downed Jedi, pulling a vibroknife from his sleeve. 

She pulled the trigger. Then again. And again. And again. Her vision had gone white and she could think of nothing but her protector bleeding on the ground below her. In the span of a few seconds all the bounty hunters were on the ground groaning and bleeding from their wounds. 

Satine stood panting on top of that ridge, staring down at the scene in front of her. Unable to believe that she had been the one to pull the trigger, but unwilling to see any more harm come to her _jetii_. Satine was tempted to toss the blaster she held as far away from her as possible, but instead clipped it to her belt and leaned over to look at Obi-Wan’s condition. 

He slowly was pulling himself back to his feet. She watched as he winced when he put weight on his left foot, and swallowed as he leaned against the rocks. She was tempted to call down and ask if he needed her to come back down to help him, when he closed his eyes and _leapt_. 

Obi-Wan’s landing on the ledge beside her wasn’t nearly as graceful as hers had been. Although she knew that was due to the care he had put in to ensure it was that way, to prevent from hurting her. In fact, it could hardly be considered a landing at all. Because as soon as weight was applied to his ankles, he collapsed into the rock and moss. 

“BEN!” Satine cried out and dropped to her knees beside him. Once again her hands were taking in the injuries. Gently she peeled his tunic away from his abdomen to look at the blaster wound. He hissed as the material pulled the wound. 

“Oh gods, I’m so sorry. Let me see if I can find—”

“Satine,” he interrupted. 

Her voice died in her throat and she looked at him with water in her eyes. “Yes?” 

“Are you hurt?” 

The tears that had formed spilled over onto her cheeks now and she gripped the collar of his tunic. Before she had the opportunity to explain that physically she was fine, but seeing him get hurt for her sake, had inflicted a wound so deep inside her that she couldn’t comprehend it, she had pulled him up by the collar and was kissing him soundly on the mouth. 

Obi-Wan was only frozen for a moment under her onslaught before his hand reached up, threaded his fingers through her hair and pinned her head in place so he could kiss her back as fiercely as she was kissing him. 

Their kissing was sloppy, and tasted of mud, but Satine reveled in it. Her hands attempted to pull him into her just as she was pressing herself down to him. Was the cliffside just above the bounty hunters she’d shot in defense of her own bodyguard the best place to act upon the desires that had crept up on them? No. Did Satine care? Also no. 

Satine was in the process of removing Obi-Wan’s shirt when he broke the kiss with a pained gasp. His hands left her body and pressed against his side. 

“As much as I would love to continue,” he said, his voice hoarse with pain and arousal. “I don’t want to be around when those bounty hunters come around.” 

In the midst of her blind desire to protect Obi-Wan, Satine hadn’t thought if she had shot to kill, or to just maim. It didn’t really matter. They wouldn’t be able to follow them back to their camp. 

“Alright,” Satine said. “Let me help you up.” 

The process to get Obi-Wan back on his feet again took some time, with more groaning and moaning to accompany it, but they managed. Satine wanted to sling one of his arms around her shoulders, but he refused. Still she hovered around him, not ready to believe that he would be able to make it back to camp on his own. Before they could start moving, Obi-Wan gave one last look down at the prone bodies on the forest floor below them. 

He whistled softly. 

“Remind me not to ever get on your bad side,” he said. “Mandalorians are scary.”

Satine let out a small chuckle as they started moving. 

“We can be.” 

* * *

**Envy**

* * *

By the time they reached their camp, Satine was certain that she was so caked in mud that she would never be able to be fully clean again. But she still had her life thanks to her _jetii_ protector, and for that she would be eternally grateful. 

Stealing a glance over at Obi-Wan, she took in condition. He wasn’t faring much better than her. In some ways, he was actually worse off. While they were both covered head to toe in mud, Obi-Wan was also littered with small wounds across his whole body, many of which were still bleeding. He held his side where he had taken a blaster bolt for Satine. There was a small limp that Satine knew was due to his twisted ankle and despite how many times she had offered to assist him walk the remainder of the way to their camp, he denied that he needed help or that he was seriously injured. 

It frustrated her to no end, but she had learned not to fight with this particular _jetii_ over such trivial things as wounds when her safety was paramount. 

“How much farther?” Satine asked, stepping over a fallen tree before turning back to offer her hand to Obi-Wan. She felt a little foolish offering it when she knew he wouldn’t take it, but she offered it anyway. 

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and reached out with the Force. Or at least that was what she assumed he was doing. When he opened them, she saw pain in them for the briefest of moments before his eyes clouded over with the mask he’d been wearing since they had broken free of the bounty hunters. 

“Not long now,” he said. “Qui-Gon is close. This way.” 

Obi-Wan slowly moved around the fallen tree and led the way for Satine to follow. 

As they walked, Satine wanted to say something, anything. She wanted to thank him for saving her life once again. She wanted to scream at him for scaring her with each blow he took for her. She wanted to push him into the dirt and have her way with him before they reached camp and would once again be under the close eye of his master. 

Instead, she kept her mouth shut and kept her eye on the young man walking alongside her. His gaze never stayed anywhere for long, still on the lookout for any other bounty hunters that would make their move on the deposed Duchess. When his gaze happened to meet hers for an instant, his face would flush underneath the mask of mud he had attempted to wipe away and he would look pointedly somewhere else. 

Not for the first time she wished she had his ability to look into people’s minds and see what they were thinking. 

Such a trait would have been handy when it came to discovering who in her government were traitors. 

She pushed the thought from her head. There was such a thing as too much power, and she didn’t want to overstep her bounds in regards to her people. It was what she had been attempting to right before she and her _jetii_ were forced to flee. 

The sound of someone calling their names had the pair of them dropping into a battle-ready position. Obi-Wan smoothly pushed Satine behind him and ignited his lightsaber as he searched the forest around them for the source of the noise. Satine’s hands shook around the blaster she had stolen from one of the bounty hunters. She couldn’t stop thinking about Obi-Wan’s condition. 

No matter how many times he protested that he was fine, she knew that another drawn out fight such as the one they just escaped from would not go in her protector’s favor. 

The voice only had to call out once more before the pair of them recognized it and nearly collapsed in relief. Obi-Wan called out to his master in order to better direct the Jedi Master to their location. When Qui-Gon emerged from behind one of the large leaves from the flora around them, Obi-Wan finally let go. 

Satine was barely able to catch him and remain standing. 

“Obi-Wan!” Qui-Gon shouted and with a single leap, closed the distance that remained between them. He grabbed his padawan underneath his arms and lifted. 

Obi-Wan’s head lolled to one side before he lifted it to look his master in the face. 

“I did as you said, Master.” His voice was rough and laced with pain. “I did what you said.”

Qui-Gon took all of the weight of his padawan from Satine’s side. Very gingerly, he lifted the young man into his arms, like Obi-Wan was a child. Obi-Wan’s head rested against the older man’s shoulder and Satine could hear Obi-Wan mutter something into his master’s cloak. Whatever it was, it made Qui-Gon laugh. 

Something unfamiliar churned in Satine’s stomach. 

“A little mud isn’t going to bother me, young one,” Qui-Gon said in response. “Rest. You’ll need to heal. Your Duchess will be safe with me.” 

Satine’s pale skin bloomed behind the mud that coated her face. She had hoped that the Jedi wouldn’t notice, no matter how unlikely it was. Master Qui-Gon always managed to give the pair of them a look whenever thoughts of giving into their desires appeared in their minds. 

The Jedi Master turned to look at Satine, giving her the quick instruction to follow him, before he led the way back through the woods. Satine obeyed, but that feeling in her stomach stayed with her. She thought of her family before this civil war. How her father behaved the same way as Qui-Gon was when she and her siblings had done something reckless and injured themselves. How her mother would treat their wounds before launching into her lecture about how irresponsible they had been. 

The memories of what had come before and what would never be again filled Satine with grief. That grief irrationally turned to anger as she watched Qui-Gon care for his student. Obi-Wan had once confided in her that there were times where he felt like he wasn’t wanted, but here, in this moment, she could see that he was wrong. Obi-Wan was loved; his master loved him, and the friends he had talked about during one of their late night chats, and Satine. But he also had something that Satine couldn’t have. 

He could go back to them and live as nothing had really changed. 

Satine hovered around Qui-Gon as he gave first aid to his student, and even after Qui-Gon said that she should get herself cleaned up as well, she found herself stuck to his student’s side. 

Qui-Gon smiled as he rolled his eyes and returned to his task. As soon as he finished, he gathered all the supplies he’d used and left to dispose of them. Satine’s eyes only followed him for a moment before they returned to Obi-Wan sleeping on the only mat they had. 

Slowly she reached out and brushed his hair back from his forehead. 

“You are truly surrounded by people who love you,” she whispered. “I envy you.” 

Satine quickly looked around the area for Qui-Gon. His back was still to them on the other side of their camp. Taking the opportunity as it presented itself to her, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Obi-Wan’s cheek. 

“Get well, _cyar’ika_ ,” she whispered. 

* * *

**Sloth**

* * *

Things were awkward between Obi-Wan and Satine now that she had been restored to her throne and the Jedi were expected to be recalled back to the Jedi Temple any day now. Words remained unspoken between them, words that needed to be said, but neither party took the steps to say. So the time they spent together consisted largely of discussions of Mandalore’s future, or stealing forbidden kisses from the other. 

They were eating dinner one night when Qui-Gon dropped the news Obi-Wan had been expecting and dreading at the same time. 

“The Jedi Council has contacted me. We leave for Coruscant tomorrow morning.” 

Obi-Wan’s heart simultaneously seemed to leap into his throat and drop into the pit of his stomach. He attempted to keep the panic that had suddenly set in from appearing on his face, if more for his own benefit than anyone else’s. His master would no doubt have already known of his padawan’s turmoil over what he should do. He refused to make eye contact with his master, and instead focused on Satine. 

She carefully avoided his eyes, picking at the vegetables that were on her plate. When they could no longer hold her attention, she looked up and gazed steadily on the Jedi Master seated across from her. 

“Well then,” she said. “I’ll have to make sure that everything is prepared for your departure in the morning. If you’ll excuse me.” 

And she left without giving a glance back at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan found himself starting at the door she had disappeared behind, longing to go after her and explain everything that was racing through his brain. He found himself half risen from his chair when he felt his master’s hand clamp down on his shoulder. Obi-Wan froze in place before he slowly returned to sit in his chair. 

“Master?” He asked. He could feel the way his heart hammered. 

“You have a decision to make,” Master Jinn said. Gently he released the young man under his grip. “I’ll leave you to meditate upon it.” 

Obi-Wan’s gaze remained focused on the door the Duchess disappeared behind, and it wasn’t until his master had nearly made it to the door on the other side of the dining hall that he was able to tear his eyes away and look at his mentor. 

“What should I do?” The question was childish, and in the eyes of many systems, Obi-Wan was legally an adult, so hearing the question pass through his lips sent a stab of shame through him. 

Qui-Gon just looked back at Obi-Wan with a look that Obi-Wan had become accustomed to as he grew up in the crèche. Pity. He’d hated that look when he was a child, back when his connection to the Force wasn’t as clear as the other younglings had been. In order to prevent himself from getting that look again, Obi-Wan had dedicated himself to his studies and that had only seemed to give him more looks of pity. 

“The answer to that question is not one I can give you Obi-Wan,” Master Jinn said. His face didn’t change. “Listen to the Force, it will guide you toward the correct answer. Trust it.” 

And like that, his master was gone. 

Obi-Wan stared at the half-eaten plate of food that sat in front of him. What had once been an appetizing meal, now only turned his stomach. He pushed himself away from the table and walked to the window and looked out over the capital city. 

He could see where parts of the city had been destroyed by the bombings. He could see scorch marks from where blasters had missed their marks. He could see the rumble along the streets, confining people from venturing far from their homes. 

But, he could see the beginnings of rebirth there as well. Citizens working alongside droids to clean the scorch marks, to remove the rubble from the walkways, to help their fellow Mandalorian. He saw some surveying over their districts, already planning on what to rebuild and where. They worked together toward a vision of the future that Satine had nearly given her life for. 

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, clasped his hands behind his back and focused upon reaching the deep meditative state that the other younglings and padawans had made fun of him for. His mind was unable to settle, even once he closed his eyes. The sight of Mandalore rebuilding and Satine kept appearing before him. His heart clenched tightly as he remembered all he’d seen and felt by her side. Could he really toss all of that aside to return to the Jedi Order? A place that had been so willing to toss him aside when he was young? But could he really stay? A pacifist Mandalorian with an ex-Jedi consort? Civil war would erupt almost as soon as the truth reached the people.

The thought that his presence by the Duchess’ side might lead to more fighting forced Obi-Wan to wince. After all she had been forced to live through, he couldn’t bear the thought that he would be the cause of more violence in her life if he decided to stay. No matter how much he longed too. 

When Obi-Wan opened his eyes again, the sun cycle inside the dome had changed to reflect the night outside. His muscles were sore from standing in place for the hours it had taken for him to emerge from his meditation. Slowly he rolled his shoulders and wrists to get circulation back to them. 

“I was wondering when you would return to me.”

Obi-Wan turned slowly to see Satine walking toward him with a smile on her face. She had changed out of her court clothes and was now in her nightgown and dressing robe. Obi-Wan swallowed thickly at the sight of her. She looked beautiful. 

“There were many things I needed to think about,” he answered. 

She nodded and leaned against his side as she looked out over the capital city. Unconscious, Obi-Wan wrapped his arm around her shoulders to keep her close. She was warm against his side. Despite knowing it was against the Jedi Code, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but feel content and at peace with her right there at his side. 

Satine hummed. The pair of them fell silent. In that moment, Obi-Wan wanted nothing else but to remain there for the rest of his life, but the feeling was short-lived. 

No. He wouldn’t stay on Mandalore and risk destabilizing the government Satine had worked so hard to build. But, if she asked him…

His thoughts were pushed aside as Satine reached up and tugged on his padawan braid. Obi-Wan frowned at the familiar way Satine used it to get his attention. There was something unreadable in her eyes as he looked at them. Her hand transferred from his braid to his cheek to the back of his neck. One of his own hands reached out to rest on her hip. 

There wasn’t a word that was shared between them as they kissed, nor were there any spoken as she led him to her bed and they took pleasure in each other. Even when they had finished and the tears were indistinguishable from sweat, neither said a word. 

And in the end, he boarded the ship headed for Coruscant. 


End file.
